


Gift Wrapped

by Tadpole4176



Series: The Very Un-Grand Tour [5]
Category: The Grand Tour (TV) RPF, Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Action/Adventure, Fluff, Gen, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:22:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28156770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tadpole4176/pseuds/Tadpole4176
Summary: Following the office Christmas party, Jeremy, Richard and James find themselves in a strange house with weird seventies décor and a distinct odour of sawdust. Then they work out what's going on, and how much they need to escape.
Series: The Very Un-Grand Tour [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1890685
Comments: 18
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

Jeremy rolled over in his sleep, keen to remain where he was for just a little while longer, his head aching horribly with the vestiges of the previous night’s Christmas party. His slumber was, however, interrupted.

“Jez!” An annoying voice penetrated his sleep, it seemed to be accompanied by fingers that insisted on poking him. “Jez!”

“Wha…rgergeat?”

“Jez! Wake up! We’re not, well, anywhere I recognise. Do you remember anything after we tried karaoke last night?”

“Hmm?” Jeremy half sat up, a parade of embarrassing images marching across his still closed eyelids.

“Jez!”

“Go away, remember later.” He slumped back into the bed, his body relaxing as the warmth and comfort returned.

The annoying thing didn’t leave, he never had been very obedient. “Get up! We need to know what’s going on.”

Jeremy, in a last ditch effort to remain in bed, batted an arm at him lazily. Unfortunately he was much too slow, only hitting thin air. “What?” He finally conceded, opening one eye to glare at Richard meaningfully. “I hope there’s imminent danger of death if you’re so keen to wake me up now.”

“We’re lost,” said Richard, “that pretty much always leads to something blowing up later.”

Jeremy grinned, despite himself. “Where’s James? Did he get us lost?”

“Just looking for him, but he’s even harder to get up than you are,” Richard paused. “And more violent.”

Sitting up in bed, rubbing at his head, Jeremy snorted. “This is probably just the producer’s idea of a joke, if we were all completely out of it after the party. Do I have a moustache on my face?”

“No,” now Richard looked puzzled.

“Nor do you,” said Jeremy, as though that was some sort of conclusion. “So this was an alternative to drawing a moustache – taking us somewhere we don’t know,” he added, when Richard continued to stare at him in bemusement. Jeremy sighed. “Go find James, I’m up.”

Richard scurried out of the room, Jeremy still could hear him banging about outside somewhere, but at least he wasn’t right in his face.

The little pikey was right though, this was a weird place. Firstly, obviously, it wasn’t somewhere he recognised. It also obviously wasn’t a hotel or pub. Nor was it the floor of the party venue, which honestly seemed like the more likely option. The decoration seemed oddly seventies, even though it smelled new, with a distinct hint of sawdust, but then the lighting all looked like LEDs.

Weird. Jeremy swung his legs out of bed, his head immediately regretting the sudden movement. The floor was carpeted against his bare feet, but oddly rough. Idly, he wondered where his shoes were, he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have taken his shoes off at the Christmas party, no matter what happened. He decided that for the moment he didn’t care and, shrugging, set off in search of Richard.

It didn’t take long to find him. Moments after he stepped onto what appeared to be an upstairs landing, Richard ran out of another room, yelling, closely followed by James with his hands held out as though he was aiming to strangle the younger man.

“Ah,” said Jeremy. “The wake up pixie routine didn’t go over well then,” he commented.

“After everything we’ve been through, waking up in a strange house does not qualify as an emergency unless there is imminent threat from either toddlers or fire,” declared James. “Make yourself useful, go and make some tea.”

“Or coffee,” added Jeremy.

“You didn’t stop him,” grumbled James. “You can supervise.” With that, he disappeared back into the room he’d emerged from, quite possibly back into bed.

It was only at that moment that Jeremy realised that James hadn’t opened or closed a door to go into the room. In fact, there were no doors at all on the entire landing, only gaps where doors should be. Even the stairs didn’t have any rails, just a gap where the floor disappeared downwards. Odd. He thought maybe the house wasn’t finished, but then why would an unfinished house be decorated in hideous, orange and brown, seventies wallpaper? Maybe they were refurbishing.

“You coming?” asked Richard, tottering down the stairs, using the floor of the landing as a kind of handhold as he did so.

“Yeah,” groaned Jeremy, keen to keep his distance from James until he’d woken up properly, and ideally taken a few paracetamol. He followed Richard downstairs.

The lower floor seemed similar to upstairs. Several rooms came off the main hallway, none of which had any doors, though at either end of the hall there was a door, presumably to the outside. One of the open archways revealed some sort of lounge, with comfy chairs and an impressive, knee high (on Richard) shag pile carpet. Another opened up into a small, mustard yellow kitchen.

“Jez?” Richard turned back to him. “I can’t see a kettle. Am I just being stupid, where’s the kettle?”

Resisting the urge to remark – for now – Jeremy looked around, also coming up empty. “I think maybe they’re renovating,” he suggested.

Richard grinned. “In that case, I think I’d better find a good hiding place before James gets downstairs!”

“Bacon butties!” exclaimed Jeremy, gleefully, grabbing one and holding another out to Richard. “This’ll cheer him up.”

“It’s a bit lukewarm,” said Richard. “It might just irritate him more.”

Jeremy laughed. “Well, it’s you that poked the bear, I’ll be fine.”

“Til you have opportunity to be annoying later?” pointed out Richard, not unreasonably.

“Well yeah,” conceded Jeremy. An inevitability.

Grinning, Richard bounced up onto the counter, a feat which Jeremy was fairly certain he couldn’t have accomplished at Richard’s height, and sat contentedly, swinging his legs and munching his butty. Jeremy leaned back against the cupboards, peering through the kitchen window at the oddly grey outside world.

James walked in, glared at Richard and Jeremy and started scanning the kitchen counter for tea. “What have you two imbeciles done with the tea?” he demanded.

“Well that’s lovely,” protested Jeremy. “Good morning, James, how are you feeling?”

“Cross,” replied James, without skipping a beat. “Imbecile number one decided to wake me up in a panic because he didn’t know where he was.” He glared at Richard again.

“I can’t find the kettle,” put in Richard, unduly cheerily. “But there’s a bacon butty,” he added, offering it to James cautiously.

“That’s something, I suppose. So, given we’re all obliged to be out of bed now, has anyone worked out where we are?” James took the proffered peace offering and attempted to make the best of it.

“We’re in a house,” said Richard. “Jez thinks it’s being refurbished.”

James looked at the taller man.

“It’s got no doors,” pointed out Jeremy. “And the décor’s so old you’d feel at home.”

“Ha ha, thank you. Yes, I had noticed it had a bit of a seventies vibe.”

“That princess you had wouldn’t look out of place in the garage,” added Jeremy.

“That was a good car! And it won.”

“It was a horrible colour though,” added Richard. 

“True,” admitted James.

“Phone signal?” asked Jeremy suddenly, starting to think through where they might actually be.

“No phone,” shrugged Richard. “Still got my watch, it’s 10.30am.”

“Which tells you nothing about where you are,” pointed out Jeremy.

“Other than how long we had to travel,” said Richard. “I remember being at the party at around 2am, and we’ve clearly slept here for at least a few hours, we haven’t travelled far.”

“My hangover confirms that we’ve not lost an entire day, so you’re right it’s not too far away,” grumbled James. “And actually, I remember later than 2, I definitely remember the annoying little git passed out on the sofa, because he can’t hold his drink…”

“Oy!”

“… And then Jezza having a go on the drums in the corner to impress that new girl on the crew.”

Jeremy groaned. “My drumming is magnificent, and she was interested.”

“She was bored stupid and too junior and polite to say so!” corrected James.

“Well, now that you’ve straightened that out,” put in Richard. “Unless there are more saucy details to follow, maybe the best plan is to explore outside? I’ve not seen any photos or anything to tell us whose house this is, so exploring the house probably won’t get us anywhere.”

“Did you just have a logical thought?” remarked James. “Will wonders never cease. You’re right though, we need to look outside.”

“No shoes,” observed Jeremy, waving his bare feet at James, then nodding at Richard’s swaying toes.

James shrugged. “We’ll keep to the smooth bits.”

He headed to the nearest door, swinging it towards him and opening the way into an oddly grey and darkened landscape.

“Is it foggy?” asked Richard, peering round James as he dithered in the entranceway.

“It’s not, it doesn’t feel wet at all,” commented James, “just a bit dingy.”

“Come on James,” complained Jeremy, “out of the way, we all want to take a look.”

“What if the door closes behind us?” asked James.

Jeremy grabbed a small bookcase near the door, motioning to Richard to help him pull it across the gap. “Better?”

“Much,” agreed James, finally stepping out of the way.

“Wow,” said Richard. “This is kind of creepy.” He scuffed his feet against the ground, as grey as the sky and the horizon. “It’s all just the same. Are you sure it’s not fog?”

“I know what this is!” exclaimed Jeremy, shaking his head. “We’re in a Christmas present. This is a doll’s house, and we’re inside a Christmas present. All this grey stuff is the inside of the wrapping paper.”

“We’re shrunk again,” said Richard, nodding.


	2. Chapter 2

“At least there aren’t any giant toddlers,” put in James.

“There could be though, in a couple of days,” put in Richard. “If we don’t get out. Whose gift are we in?”

“That’s a thought,” winced Jeremy. “What’s the date?”

Both Richard and James looked at their watches.

“19th.” They replied in unison.

“Well, gentlemen, I think we should find a way out. I, for one, don’t want to be around when a small person starts shaking their present and turning us upside down.”

“It’s probably a bit big for a child to turn upside down,” observed James.

“You don’t know that,” responded Jeremy, “there’s no sense of scale in here.”

“I’m not waiting around to find out though,” added Richard, padding across the paper to the wall and pushing against it. “Surely we can just break this?”

“How hard can it be?” said Jeremy, eliciting groans from both of the others.

“Quite hard, actually,” replied Richard, poking at the wall as hard as he could but still not really making any impression. “I think maybe they’ve used that foil wrapping that’s impossible to break? Or maybe it’s cardboard rather than paper?”

“Come here, man. It’s not possible you can’t break wrapping paper with your finger, no matter how tiny,” protested James, walking to the wall to have a go himself. “Maybe you’re poking at a bit with tape on it?”

“It’s him,” said Richard. “Every time he asks how hard it is some higher power – probably Mr Wilman – finds a way to make it impossible.”

“It’s not me!” Jeremy joined them, kicking and poking at the wall without any effect, not even any give.

“That is not wrapping paper,” said James. “Maybe the doll’s house comes in a box?”

“But we can’t stick our fingers through a cardboard box even when we’re big!” groaned Richard.

“Guys,” put in Jeremy. “I think we’ve come out of the back door.”

“So?” Richard looked up at him, baffled.

“The packaging might be different at the front.”

“Ah, I see your point,” nodded Richard. “Shall we take a look then, chaps?” He dived for the door, dodging the bookcase and shooting through the house.

Jeremy rolled his eyes at James, striding into the house after him.

Richard reached the front door quickly, flinging it open without worrying about it closing behind him and stepping out into the box – probably. Jeremy was right, instead of the smooth grey surface, here there was a shinier plastic section on the wall, with the grey cardboard on the floor. Beyond the transparent plastic wall, he could see the actual wrapping paper, a lighter shade of grey in the dim light from the house.

“And?” prodded Jeremy, opening the door after Richard and making the younger man jump.

“Plastic,” said Richard, turning to face him. “Ooooo, but look – there’s a garage.” He motioned to Jeremy’s left, revealing a garage door.

“So?” asked Jeremy.

“There might be a car! We could drive the car into the wall,” suggested Richard.

“There’s potentially a brand new car in there and you want to crash it?” asked James.

“Only into cardboard!” protested Richard. “I’ll replace it later!”

James struggled, looking over at Jeremy. “I don’t have any better ideas.”

“Fine,” said Jeremy, “we’ll go along with the Hamster plan. God help us all.”

Richard sprang into action, approaching the garage door, grabbing the door knob and pushing at the top, expecting it to roll over the top as a normal garage door would.

James corrected him. “I think you’ll find, Hamster, that this is just a doll’s house, so the door opens like a normal door, it just looks like a garage door.” He grabbed the handle and opened it sideways, easily swinging it out of the way and revealing a small car.

Richard gasped, immune to any comments about failing to open the garage door. “That’s Oliver! Well, it’s like Oliver, in miniature!”

“What?” Jeremy strode over to inspect, bursting into laughter when he saw the car for himself. “Well that’s not going to help with your plan to crash it!”

Richard winced. “Maybe you could crash it instead?” he suggested.

“Oh no, I’ve tried crashing before, it hurts.”

“I’ve tried crashing before too,” pointed out Richard, earning himself a couple more sniggers.

“Lots,” chuckled James.

“What about you, James? You could crash it?” he suggested.

“Oh no, I’m the one insurance companies trust, I’m not throwing that away,” declared James. “Crashing is definitely your job.”

Richard sighed, approaching the little car slowly, stroking its bonnet. “I’ll have to play with him a bit first,” he said, opening the door and climbing into the driver’s seat.

James turned to Jeremy. “You realise that thing’s metal and he’s talking about crashing into cardboard?”

Jeremy grinned, nodding.

“How long until we put him out of his misery?” asked James.

“Not just yet,” said Jeremy.

James grinned back, turning back to watch Richard starting the little car up.

Richard was still stroking the dashboard, talking to Oliver about the job he needed to do, and how much fun they’d have first. Finally, he started the engine and the little car roared to life, running out of the garage and round to the side of the house, barely fitting between the house and the box.

Jeremy stuck his head out of the garage to watch him go. “I don’t think he can turn round in that space,” he commented. “I suspect he’s going to reappear from the other side in a moment.”

“Unless he’s crashed it by accident,” observed James.

“Quite likely really,” agreed Jeremy. “I’m not sure the lights work on that thing, and we all know Hamster can’t drive round corners.”

“Or in straight lines,” added James on cue.

“He’s not crashed!” declared Jeremy, diving fully back into the garage as Richard came to a halt outside.

“Yet,” muttered James.

“He works!” Richard yelled through the open window. “Feels just like the real Oliver.”

“You mean your friend?” asked James.

“The car!” laughed Richard.

“So are you going to crash it then?” asked Jeremy.

Richard sighed. “Yeah, just one more lap first.” He patted the car. “Sorry, Oliver.”

“Put your seat belt on,” added James.

Jeremy laughed as Richard set off again round the house. The next time past the garage, the younger man didn’t even pause, his face set as he turned that last corner then revved the engine as high as it would go and aimed directly at the back wall.

A few moments later there was a muffled thump. Despite himself, Jeremy winced.

“We’d better go check on him, I guess,” said James, taking off at a pace that belied his words.

The car and the wall both seemed undamaged, though the car was now stationary and there was no sign of Richard leaping out to greet them.

“Hamster?” called Jeremy, moving to the driver’s door. He peered through the door, quickly revealing their friend slumped against the steering wheel. He bent down, pushing Richard away from the steering wheel to get a better look at him. He had a nasty bruise on his forehead, and he’d obviously been knocked out momentarily, but he was already coming round.

“He alright?” asked James.

“Bumped his head,” called back Jeremy. “He’s just coming round.” He turned his attention back to Richard, leaving James to open the passenger door and scramble onto the seat there. “Hamster?”

“Hmm?” said Richard, his eyes half opening.

“You OK?” asked Jeremy gently.

“Mmm, head hurts,” groaned Richard, reaching up to hold his forehead. “Worse than the hangover.”

“How about we’ll get you to the lounge, you can have a lie down for a bit on the sofa?” suggested Jeremy, reaching into the car to help Richard out, keeping his arm round the smaller man to hold him upright.

“Okay,” replied Richard, his arms both clinging to Jeremy as they made their way to the front door and through to the lounge, James joining them on the other side of Richard as they made their way over.

“Come on, Hamster, nearly there,” encouraged Jeremy, shuffling the last few steps and carefully lowering Richard onto the sofa, bending down to his knees carefully as he persuaded Richard to lie full length on the sofa.

On Richard’s other side, James lifted his legs onto the sofa before taking a perch on the arm. “Richard?” he asked softly.

“Yeah?” Richard’s, slightly unfocussed, eyes lifted to stare in James’s direction.

“You’re not supposed to head butt the steering wheel, it hurts.”

“Thanks, James,” grinned Richard, “very helpful.”

Jeremy squeezed his hand. “You OK?” He brushed Richard’s hair away.

“I’ll be OK in a min,” replied Richard, shuffling slightly and closing his eyes.

“Take a break, Jez,” said James. “I’ll get everyone a drink and something to eat.” He gestured to the arm chair to Jeremy’s left. “Don’t cripple yourself, neither of us will be able to deal with the moaning later.”

“I never moan!” protested Jeremy, prompting both Richard and James to scoff at him.

“I’ll hold you to that,” added James, as he exited the room.

Richard simply groaned, holding on to Jeremy’s hand more tightly as he rolled over to get more comfortable.

“You’ve really got to stop doing this,” whispered Jeremy, knowing that Richard was only half with him.

“It’s the last time,” promised Richard, quietly.

Jeremy grinned, giving Richard’s hand one more squeeze before heading over to the arm chair to drag it over.


	3. Chapter 3

An hour or so later, once all three of them had consumed various cold, but edible, items from the kitchen and had a drink, Richard was looking a lot more with it. Jeremy had retreated to a more typical distance and they were back to trying to free themselves from the box.

“So, the car didn’t work,” said James, by way of an introduction.

“And it nearly broke Hamster,” added Jeremy.

“Not worth trying that again anyway,” added James. “I took a look at the damage, there’s just nothing. I was thinking we need a new tactic, and I have one.” He looked very pleased with himself.

“What?” asked Richard.

“We go back to the garage, find a few tools that might act as levers, then have a go at the seam between the plastic and the cardboard at the front of the house,” announced James. “Target the weak spot.”

Jeremy mulled it over for a moment, then nodded. “Worth a go,” he agreed.

They trooped back to the garage, grateful not to have to struggle with the door again.

“I think we’d be better off with kitchen implements,” commented James disgustedly after a few minutes of searching. “I’ve only found one plastic spanner.”

Richard shrugged. “It is a doll’s house, I’m surprised there’s a garage at all.”

“I can’t find a hammer!” exclaimed Jeremy. “I don’t care if it’s all girly, what kind of house doesn’t have a hammer?”

Laughing, it was James who replied. “They probably saw you coming and thought they’d better hide them all. I’m going to try the kitchen, I’m pretty sure the knives were metal.”

Several minutes later, the three of them lined up at the box wall at the front of the house, armed with a knife, a rolling pin and a giant barbecue fork ready to prize the plastic cover from the box, Richard and Jeremy already engaging in a barbecue fork vs rolling pin sword fight as James dithered over the best place to target.

“I’d think it would be weakest in the middle,” said James, ignoring the clashing sounds behind him. “But I don’t have the means to find the precise middle. I think I’ll pace it.” He headed off to the corner, taking even strides.

Jeremy and Richard, ignoring him, continued to fight, until Richard accidentally stabbed Jeremy’s thumb with the fork.

“Ahhh! You’ve killed me dead!”

Richard looked up at him, then back to his hand, a drop of blood slowly forming at the sight of the injury, raising a single eyebrow and therefore highlighting the spectacular lump and bruise on his forehead. “It’s a flesh wound!”

“You’re not supposed to make holes in me! Especially after I was nice to you.”

“True,” Richard conceded. “Sorry, Jez, I’ll kiss it better.”

He leant over and kissed the palm of Jeremy’s hand, leaving Jeremy momentarily speechless.

“Have you two imbeciles finished fighting then?” asked James, arriving back and shuffling to the spot precisely in front of the front door of the house that he – unsurprisingly – declared to be the middle. “We need to work here,” he said, taking his knife and inserting it into the gap between the plastic and the cardboard.

Richard, turning away from the still stunned Jeremy, stood alongside him, inserting the prongs of his fork next to James’s knife.

“Jez?” prompted James.

“I’m wounded,” protested Jeremy, holding his thumb out for James to see.

“It’s barely bleeding,” said James. “You were sword fighting, you’re lucky he didn’t chop the whole arm off!”

“He can’t reach that high,” commented Jeremy, sucking at his thumb again.

“Just use your other hand, man,” complained James, before deciding to ignore Jeremy and starting to try to lever the plastic up.

For a moment it looked like it was working, a tiny area of plastic came away from the cardboard and James even managed to get a finger into it. Then the handle snapped off the knife.

“Oh,” exclaimed Richard, looking at James’s broken knife and handing him a thoroughly bent barbecue fork to go along with it. “I think we’re going to need a lot more implements.”

“Does that mean we can stop now?” asked Jeremy. “I’m bored!”

James stared at the remains of their attempt. “Maybe we can pull at the bit we’ve loosened,” he suggested, grabbing at the bottom of the plastic and pulling with all his might.

“It’s a shame we’re not like Antman,” said Richard. “He gets to keep his big person strength when he’s shrunk.”

“Yeah,” agreed James. “That would be handy,” he gasped, straining at the plastic. “Come on man, stop daydreaming about fictional characters and give this a pull!”

“I am pulling!”

“Give me a go,” interrupted Jeremy. “It’s those tiny Hamster muscles, you need a big, strong person for this.”

“Well, you are big,” conceded Richard. “Not sure about the other thing.” He mimed Jeremy’s protruding stomach.

“Just help,” complained James, sweat pouring down his face as he braced his feet against the bottom edge of the box and pulled with all his might against the plastic.

“I am helping!” stressed Richard.

“Move,” said Jeremy, literally grabbing Richard and moving him to the side, before positioning himself and pulling alongside James.

“I’d quite like a camera just now,” said Richard, watching the two of them straining at the plastic. “We could have that image as part of the show titles every week.”

“That’s not going,” decided Jeremy, stepping away and running his hand across his forehead. “There’s nothing, it’s not giving an inch. Or whatever the equivalent of an inch at this scale is.”

“You’re right,” agreed James, “as loathe as I am to admit it, that’s well and truly glued on and we’re not budging it.”

………………………………………………

They went to bed that night disillusioned. Aware that they only had a few days to escape before they risked becoming part of some child’s Christmas present – a terrifying prospect. As they strategically switched a selection of the lights off in order to sleep, the absolute darkness surrounding them felt stifling and eerie. No one mentioned it as they headed for bed, but Jeremy was certain both of the others were equally disturbed. Even in the countryside, in a house that stood alone, as his own house had been for decades, he didn’t feel as isolated as this. The only thing that really compared had been the pole, but even then there had been a film crew alongside.

Here there was just nothing.

It wasn’t an easy way to get to sleep, and when he did sleep, Jeremy didn’t sleep deeply, as though his body was listening out for noise that wasn’t there.

As a result, at around 3am he found himself on his feet and out onto the landing before he really registered that he’d heard a noise.

“What was that?” he asked, quietly, not certain he wanted an answer.

A, clearly terrified, Richard Hammond practically smacked into his chest in the darkness. “Jez! I…” he began, scarcely getting the words out. He wrapped his arms round the smaller man, waiting for him to calm down and explain what was going on.

“Hamster?” he asked, wondering if this was some kind of aftereffect of the head injury.

“I got up for a piss, and then I went back into the wrong room and there was a person there, staring at me!” spluttered Richard, when he finally calmed down enough to say something Jeremy could interpret.

“You’re sure it wasn’t just James?”

“Yes! It wasn’t James, I’m good at recognising James, I’ve had a lot of practice!”

“It is quite dark,” pointed out Jeremy.

“It’s not that dark!” protested Richard.

Jeremy grinned. “Do you need me to save you from the stranger, Hamster?”

“No! I was just half asleep and surprised! I can deal with it.” Richard moved away from Jeremy, back in the direction he’d come from.

Jeremy followed him, curiously, unwilling to simply stand back and wait.

Richard didn’t object, although Jeremy had thought he might. He entered a room they hadn’t previously explored, dimly lit by the sole light that remained on, at the bottom of the stairs.

“Turn the light on, Hamster,” whispered Jeremy.

The smaller man obeyed, feeling around for the light switch, then spontaneously dazzling both of them as their eyes adjusted.

Squinting, they both peered into the room, tensed just in case someone jumped out at them, though Jeremy was reasonably convinced that they’d have noticed another person wandering around.

“Argh!” squeaked Richard, when his eyes finally adjusted, taking a significant step backwards.

Jeremy, despite Richard treading on his toe, cracked up laughing, resting his hands against his knees as he bent down, giggling in great wheezing gulps. “They’re dolls, Hamster!” he managed to choke out.

“I can see that now,” snapped Richard. “They jumped out at me in the dark! And they’re all creepy, and huge!”

Jeremy grinned, putting his hand on Richard’s shoulder and turning him round. “Come on, Hamster, it’s the middle of the night and they’re not going anywhere.”

Richard glanced back at the dolls, stood menacingly in the corner, and taller than he was.

“I promise, they’re not moving,” repeated Jeremy, nudging Richard away from the room. “Come on.”

With the dolls out of sight, Richard let Jeremy push him back to his room and climbed into bed almost automatically, rolling away from his friend and apparently relaxing. Jeremy waited for several minutes, waiting to see if he was going to leap out of bed again or start spontaneously yelling in his sleep about something. Nothing happened.

Jeremy turned to leave, moving quietly out of the room in search of his own.


	4. Chapter 4

By the time Jeremy woke up in the morning, the dolls had disappeared. Richard had clearly been up and about early in the morning, and hidden them somewhere where he wouldn’t accidentally run into them. Jeremy shot his friend a meaningful, querying look over their morning orange squash, but left it at that, mainly because during the night Richard had clearly been doing way more thinking than was good for him, and was about to suggest they embark on another plan.

Going for the roof.

James, naturally, was very against this particular plan. Richard was all guns blazing ready to go, and immune to any efforts to dissuade him. So Jeremy became the voice of reason.

Which was a bit unusual, but kind of fun.

There were some easy questions. “How on earth are we going to get onto the roof, Hamster?” he asked, when James had stopped complaining.

“Climb up the chimney,” replied Richard, his eyes sparkling as his hands wound up for another explanation.

“Hamster, we cannot climb up the chimney.” This reason thing was easy, Jeremy decided.

“Have you looked at it?” Richard asked, defiantly.

“Well, no.”

“So how do you know?”

“I’m aware that chimneys are tall, straight, smooth things and that it would be not dissimilar to climbing up the outside of the house,” protested Jeremy.

“Ah… but you didn’t look. This is a doll’s house, and I’ve found a special feature,” grinned Richard. “If you start upstairs, there’s actually a little staircase all the way up the inside of the chimney.”

“Richard,” said James. “What, precisely, possessed you to go round looking at the inside of the chimney? Apparently in the middle of the night, since you were down here having breakfast when I got up.”

“Well,” he faltered. “I was looking for hiding places.”

Jeremy snorted. “Were the dolls coming to get you again?”

“Ha ha,” said Richard. “No, I was looking for places to hide the dolls, so I didn’t have to look at them again because they were creeping me out,” he rushed.

James and Jeremy both burst into laughter, Richard’s exasperated face making them laugh all the more.

“You should have told me last night,” said Jeremy, marginally more sympathetically, once he’d finished laughing. “Did you sleep again at all?”

Richard looked embarrassed. “Not really.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Richard shrugged. “Is that really what’s important right now?”

“Possibly not,” conceded James, still chortling slightly. “It is funny though.”

“You didn’t see them,” said Richard. “They looked like they were watching you, and they were just disturbing.”

“I did,” replied James, quietly. “They were just dolls, albeit life-sized at the moment because we’re shrunk. I thought you had daughters, man.”

“The dolls were never bigger than me, OK!”

James rolled his eyes. “Just dolls, inanimate objects. Cars are bigger than you. For that matter, pretty much everything is bigger than you.”

“Anyway,” said Richard, opting for ignoring them. “The stairs take us right up to the roof, and the lid of the box is right above that. There’s one of those plastic handles through the lid that I reckon might leave a big enough gap to get through.”

James looked pointedly at Jeremy’s stomach, then raised his eyes to look at Jeremy’s face. “That actually sounds like a reasonable plan, did he really come up with that?”

“Not sleeping apparently does him some good,” nodded Jeremy. “Let’s go!”

“Ah, one more thing though,” added James. “I genuinely don’t like heights, so I’ve got no intention of climbing out onto that roof until it has been proven that it’s possible to get through the hole for the handle. Agreed?”

“I think we can manage that,” agreed Richard.

“James can bring up the rear,” grinned Jeremy.

The two older men followed Richard into the room where the dolls had been, watching him disappear into the small fireplace before Jeremy followed, bending himself almost double to get inside.

“I hope this opens out a bit,” he muttered.

“You’ll be fine,” responded Richard, scampering up the spiral stairs two at a time, making Jeremy feel dizzy.

Richard was right, the view at the top, despite the poor illumination, revealed a handle that – whilst stood on the top of the chimney – Jeremy could reach easily, and a hole that looked plenty big enough for a doll-sized presenter.

“If I hold this out of the way, can you climb up my back, Hamster?” Jeremy asked.

Richard stood at Jeremy’s side, looking up into the hole. “I think so,” he said, putting his hands on Jeremy’s shoulders and attempting to scramble up.” There was a long pause as Richard managed to kick Jeremy’s legs several times.

“I think what he meant was no,” said James, partially emerging from the stairway in order to give Richard a push onto Jeremy’s back.

“Ooof, how are you so heavy?” gasped Jeremy, clinging on to the handle.

“Sorry, Jez, nearly there,” panted Richard, using Jeremy’s head as a lever and he got his knees and then his feet to Jeremy’s shoulders.

“Alright Jezza?” called James.

“Yeah, as long as he gets a move on,” grunted Jeremy, trying to look up to see how Richard was doing.

As Richard’s second foot lifted from his shoulder, Jeremy turned, watching as the Hamster scrambled into the hole, almost wobbled backwards and had Jeremy reaching his hands out to catch him in panic. Finally, he disappeared properly into the hole and reappeared as a face leaning down and a pair of arms ready to help haul someone up.

“Who’s next?” he asked, enthusiastic as ever.

Jeremy looked down. “James,” he said, catching the other man’s eye.

“Yeah, OK,” agreed James, crawling onto the top of the chimney and resolutely keeping his eyes focussed on Jeremy.

“Knee?” asked Jeremy, going down on one knee to give James an obvious stepping stone, and holding out his arms to steady him. “Hamster’s not going to be a lot of help, is he? All he’s done is proven the hole’s big enough to get him through.”

“Pretty much,” grimaced James, “but let’s get this over with.” He placed his hands on Jeremy’s shoulders initially, then stepping onto his knee, reached out for the hole above him, Richard’s hands grabbing onto his as he did so. He knew that Richard couldn’t possibly haul him up, but the contact was reassuring, and with a well-placed foot on Jeremy’s shoulder his upper body made it into the hole.

“Phew,” said James, as between them they managed to get his legs through the hole and he could collapse on a solid surface again.

“One more thing,” said Richard apologetically, nodding down at Jeremy. “We have to get the oaf up first.”

James sighed. “Let’s get on with it then.” He rolled onto his stomach, reaching his arms through the hole with Richard’s and grabbing one of Jeremy’s arms.

“On three?” asked Richard.

“One, two, three,” said James, beginning to pull.

At first it didn’t look like they were going to manage to move him at all, that Jeremy would just be stuck on the roof of the house, but finally Jeremy’s elbows made it, then his shoulders, and finally an entire Jeremy collapsed onto the lid of the box, a completely spent co-presenter at either side of him.

“I think I’m dead,” announced Jeremy.

“I’m definitely dead,” agreed Richard.

“Me too,” added James. “Maybe we can just take a break here before we move on to our next adventure,” he suggested.

“My arms feel like jelly,” said Richard.

“Yeah,” groaned James. “Are you sure you didn’t fill your pockets with rocks, Jez?”

“Ha ha,” Jeremy responded. “You two are just wusses.”

“We’re going to have to head for one of the corners now,” declared James, still not moving. “If this is actually some child’s Christmas present, we should try to avoid damaging the wrapping.”

“We’re not mentioning the bent barbecue fork, then?” asked Richard.

“Can’t do anything about that now,” pointed out James. “Unless you want to go back down and fix it?”

“He could go down and fix it – move Oliver back into the garage, put stuff away, all that,” put in Jeremy. “We’ll be able to lift him back again no problem.”

“Really?” said Richard.

“Definitely,” replied Jeremy. “Think of the kid who opens their present.”

“Ohhhh, OK,” sighed Richard, shuffling reluctantly back towards the hole, sliding his feet out.

Jeremy and James took an arm each, lowering him carefully until his feet were touching the chimney, then let go, leaving Richard to go on his mission.

“That should give us a few minutes,” said James, relaxing against the box in relief.

Jeremy sprawled on his side, peering down the hole intermittently as they waited. “Bored,” he complained, barely two minutes after Richard had gone. “Why is he taking so long?”

“He’s got to get down there, shift the car, move any mess, it’ll take him a few minutes. Do not climb down to help, Jeremy, I am not hauling you back up again.”

A yell sounded below them, echoing round the empty box.

“Jez,” said James warningly. “Do not climb down, there is nothing down there he could possibly get into trouble with.”

“What’s he yelling about then?” asked Jeremy.

“He probably stubbed his toe,” suggested James. “That man’s an accident waiting to happen.”

“He could have crashed the car again,” pointed out Jeremy.

“That’s true,” conceded James. “We’d have heard a crunch if he’d done that though.”

“Fallen down the stairs?” asked Jeremy.

“Stop inventing calamities and have a little patience man!”

A face appeared at the top of the chimney, white as a sheet. “Jez! James!” He clambered out of the chimney and held his arms up, reaching for the others.

“Hamster, your hand’s all sweaty,” complained Jeremy. “I’m going to drop you! What were you doing down there?”

“Just get me up!” squeaked Richard.

Jeremy chuckled, shifting his grip to Richard’s wrist. “You got him, James?”

“Just about,” grunted James.

“Here, I’ll pull him up a bit and you can grab his wrist too,” said Jeremy, hauling Richard slightly higher so that James could reach. “Better?”

“Got him,” agreed James.

Once they had a good hold on him, they made quick work of pulling Richard back onto the lid of the box, depositing him unceremoniously as soon as he made it through.

“So what was all that fuss down there about?” asked James. “Did you scrape Oliver or something?”

“I…” Richard looked at Jeremy. “I thought I’d better put the dolls back, so I went to get them.”

“You freaked out about dolls that you knew were there?” queried Jeremy.

“No,” said Richard. “I freaked out because they weren’t where I left them! They moved. On their own!”

James laughed, proper, braying, out loud laughter. “You are so gullible, Hamster.”

“What?”

“I moved them,” gasped James, as Jeremy began to laugh with him. “The look on your face. Freaky haunted doll’s house and creepy dolls!”

“Bastard,” said Richard, glaring at him. “I don’t like dolls! Is that such a crime?”

“No, but it is funny,” grinned James.

Jeremy ruffled his hair. “Come on, Hamster, let’s get out of here.” He turned to the still chuckling James, “James, you good to go?”

“Yeah,” replied James, nudging Richard as he moved. “Sorry Hamster, I couldn’t resist.”

They ended up having to crawl as they got closer to the edge of the wrapping, the paper getting tighter and tighter on the box until eventually there wasn’t room for Jeremy to squeeze in the gap. There, they stopped to inspect the paper. 

“You know,” said James. “The paper’s folded several times here, so presumably it’s possible to get out without leaving an obvious hole – which is all we’re trying to do. Maybe we should just go for it?”

“OK,” agreed Richard cautiously. “We can poke a hole now?”

“Yes,” said James, “but only one layer.” 

“That rules him out then,” grinned Richard, advancing on the paper with a finger pointed out at the ready.

The paper tore easily, slightly too easily, with a second layer ripping too, and then the hole opening up wider than intended, but Richard could feel it, a ripple of air from outside, freedom! He dived for the hole, scrambling through the paper with an urgency that Jeremy suspected still had a lot to do with those ridiculous dolls.

Five, tense, claustrophobic minutes later, all three of them were out and James was inspecting the wrapping where Jeremy had dragged himself through it.

“This’ll be fine,” announced James. “No one will notice.” He carefully smoothed the top sheet of the paper.

“What now then?” asked Richard, standing up on the present and looking round. “We seem to be quite a long way from the ground.”

“Now,” declared Jeremy, “I am going to lie back here and assume that either Rudolph or Santa is going to rescue us.”

……………………………………………

Jeremy cracked an eye open, almost afraid to look just in case he was still surrounded by acres of wrapping paper or freaky man-sized dolls. Instead, however, he found himself on the sofa in James’s flat. Christmas tree up in the corner, and a smattering of small gifts that in no way resembled a doll’s house underneath it. He looked around, checking for his mates.

James appeared momentarily, armed with tea, as always. “Jezza,” he said, handing Jeremy a mug.

“Rudolph?” asked Jeremy.

James shrugged. “Just woke up, I think Santa seems more likely though.”

“Hamster?” He looked down at their little friend, still asleep slumped against the arm of the sofa beside him.

“Hmm?” Still half asleep, he responded, sort of.

“I brought him some tea too,” grinned James. “I think he was dreaming about dolls again, I was going to wake him up.”

Jeremy reached over, shaking Richard gently. “Hamster?”

This time, his eyes opened, flinching as half-awake he didn’t really recognise Jeremy for a moment, then relaxing as he did, reaching up to rub his face.

“Just me and James,” said Jeremy.

“And tea,” added James, handing the third mug over.

Richard took it with a smile, blowing on it as he checked out their surroundings surreptitiously.

“No dolls,” added Jeremy, slinging a friendly arm round Richard. “It is now safe to have Christmas.”

“Here’s to that,” grinned James.

Richard rolled his eyes and drank his tea.


End file.
